Four years ago, Mom and Dad went to Pinehill together.

Not long after, Mom gave up on the expedition and came back, but Dad refused to quit and disappeared for four years without a word.

Recently, the police informed us that Dad, who had been missing for four years, was confirmed dead in Pinehill. All that remained was a backpack and a diary.

The backpack was stained with blood and hair. DNA testing confirmed it belonged to my dad.

Mom and I had no choice but to bury an empty grave for him, with only his backpack and diary.

On the third night after the burial, the father who had been confirmed dead came home.

He smiled eerily, his body covered in dirt, completely devoid of any human warmth as if he had just crawled out from the grave.

“Evelyn, did you miss Daddy?”

——

I froze and shivered.

A word barely escaped my throat. “Y… yes.”

Dad smiled with delight. His rough hand pinched my cheek, sending a chill straight to my heart.

It wasn’t the temperature of a living person at all.

It terrified me.

But Dad was clearly already dead. In the backyard, the empty grave still held the backpack and diary he left behind in Pinehill.

So who exactly was this “Dad” standing before me?

Panicked, I called out for Mom. She was upstairs in the bathroom taking a shower.

Hearing my cries, she asked what was going on.

I hesitated for a moment, but then told her everything truthfully.

“Mom, Dad is back!”

“What?”

She let out a startled cry and a minute later, she came running out, still dripping wet and half-dressed.

She thought I was talking nonsense and was ready to scold me, until she saw Dad standing in the living room.

Dad smiled wearily and pulled a few stones out of his pocket. “Margaret, I’m back. You’ve worked so hard all these years, keeping the house together and taking care of our daughter. These are stones I brought back for you from Pinehill as a keepsake.”

He shoved the stones into Mom’s hands, but she flinched in fear.

With a dull thud, the stones fell to the floor.

Mom stared blankly at the stones, her expression suddenly filled with panic.

Her lips pressed tightly together and I couldn’t tell whether she was afraid of Dad—or of the stones.

But Dad kept smiling as if his face could only hold one expression— that eerie smile.

Yet somehow, that clumsy, tone-deaf attempt at romance… was just like the old him.

He hadn’t changed at all.

My dad was always a thrill-seeker.

Before he married Mom, they were both part of an amateur expedition team. After marrying her, he quit the original team, but was still rarely home. Instead, he formed a new group with other outdoor enthusiasts.

After I was born, he stayed home a bit more, but his free-spirited nature couldn’t be restrained. He still went on expeditions just as often.

In my memory, the only one ever truly tied down was Mom.

When I cried as a child, she would cry with me, often breaking down, then healing on her own, again and again.

She endured it all until I finally grew up and only then did she return to work as a nurse.

But Dad never considered Mom’s feelings. In fact, he found her boring.

Every time he conquered a new place, he would bring back a stone as a souvenir for her.

Mom’s vanity table wasn’t filled with jewelry or makeup. It was completely taken over by stones from all over the country.

And now, there was one more.

Even I felt it was too much, let alone Mom. I wanted to throw it far, far away.

But Dad just kept smiling eerily and asked, “What’s wrong, Margaret? Don’t you like it?”

“I like it,” Mom replied coldly, then told him to go upstairs, take a shower, change his clothes and get a good night’s sleep.

Dad didn’t object at all. He just smiled and went upstairs.

As soon as the sound of running water came from the bathroom, Mom grabbed my hand in a panic and dragged me into a corner.

“Evelyn! You must remember what I’m telling you! You must remember! That man is not your father! Your father died in Pinehill! No matter what he says or does, don’t believe him! He’s not your father!”

Dad had come back from the dead. But for our family, it was anything but a blessing.

I had long gotten used to it being just Mom and me at home. Now, with Dad suddenly back, I felt completely on edge.

Early in the morning, Mom left the house, saying she had something important to take care of that she might be gone for several days.

She transferred me some money and told me to take care of myself.

Before leaving, she gave me one final reminder.

[Whatever you do, don’t trust that man. He’s not your father!]

My heart leapt into my throat.

Just as I finished reading her message, I sensed a shadow behind me.

I turned around and saw Dad’s face, that fake smile stretched across his features.

“Good morning, Evelyn. Are you texting your mom? Where is she? I didn’t see her this morning.”

“She went to work. She said she’s on a business trip and won’t be back for a few days.”

Dad smiled, then pushed up his glasses, exposing Mom’s lie without hesitation.

“A nurse going on a business trip?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “She’s just a nurse.”

“Of course she has to!” I quickly explained. “Mom’s about to run for head nurse. She had to go to the provincial competition. Of course it’s a business trip! Dad, you don’t know how hard she’s worked these past four years. She had to juggle her job and take care of me.”

Then I seized the chance to ask him, “Dad, what about you? Where have you been these past four years? Why didn’t you call me even once?”

He paused.

The look in his eyes behind the glasses suddenly turned sharp and cold, but the smile on his face didn’t change.

He started talking about what happened in Pinehill, the dangers he encountered and the vastness he saw.

He spoke in great detail, as if he really had spent four years there.

He even seemed to remember everything, about Mom, about me.

As he spoke, I kept stealing glances at the empty grave in the yard. I suddenly remembered the diary that had been in Dad’s backpack.

Maybe it contained details about what had really happened in Pinehill.

Back when the police returned the backpack, Mom wouldn’t let me read the diary. She said she was afraid I’d be too heartbroken, that I might never recover from the trauma of losing Dad, so she buried it with the empty grave.

But if I were to dig it up now and take a look, maybe I could find some clues. I could compare them to the words of the man in front of me who claimed to be my father and maybe the truth would come to light.

I kept the plan to myself, chatting with “Dad” half-heartedly.

By noon, he offered to cook lunch for me. Even though the weather wasn’t particularly warm, he turned on the air conditioner, setting it to a low temperature, blasting the cold air directly onto himself.

In the constant swirl of cold air from the air conditioner, I thought I caught a strange, inexplicable odor.

But I didn’t dare say anything. I forced myself to act as if nothing was wrong, eating the meal Dad had cooked for me. The taste was just as awful as it used to be. Nothing seemed unusual.

After lunch, Dad said he was tired and wanted to go back to his room to rest.

He even took a shower before heading to his room, turning on the air conditioner there as well, setting the temperature low.

As I passed by his room, I felt a chilly draft blowing out through the crack in the door.

Inside, it was pitch black. Dad had pulled the curtains all the way shut, giving off a strange sense of him loving the darkness.

I saw everything, but I didn’t dare say anything. I silently returned to my own room.

Once Dad had fallen asleep and there was no sound, I grabbed a shovel and quietly headed to the backyard to dig up the empty grave!

The grave wasn’t very deep and in just about ten minutes, I had it open.

When I pulled the diary out of the backpack, I quickly stuffed it into my clothes, then hurriedly filled the hole back up before running back to my room.

I shut the doors and windows, hiding in my room with eager anticipation as I opened the diary.

It was indeed written in Dad’s handwriting.

The first twenty or so pages were his records of everything that happened in Pinehill.

In the diary, he wrote that he had entered Pinehill without much trouble and on the way, he had met another exploration team and joined them.

They had planned to visit the uncharted ruins of the ancient Elwood City, so they changed their route halfway through.

For a long time after that, Dad didn’t write in his diary again. There was a large blank section in between.

When he finally resumed writing, I saw that he had written something horrifying in blood.

“Evelyn! If you can see the diary left by your dad, run! Your mom is no longer your mom… Run, do you understand!”

The trembling blood-red words were deeply etched into my heart. I shuddered in fear and the diary fell to the ground.

Immediately, a photograph slipped out.

The background of the photo was a dusty, twilight-colored desert landscape. In the distance, the ruined remains of the ancient Elwood City stood.

Amongst the swirling sand and dust, a female corpse was buried. The face of the corpse had been gnawed away by beasts, making it unrecognizable. But the clothes on her body were familiar to me and the bracelet on her hand was unmistakable. It was the same bracelet I had bought for my mom when I went on a trip with my classmates four years ago, engraved with a laser-etched message that subtly expressed my love for her. But how could that bracelet be found in Pinehill?

Who was that female corpse?

My mind was full of questions and my nerves were stretched to the breaking point.

I didn’t snap out of it until I heard a knock on my bedroom door.

“Evelyn? Are you asleep? Why did you lock the door?”

Dad turned the doorknob a couple of times, sounding urgent, completely different from his previous gentleness.

“Evelyn, open the door!”

“Evelyn, what are you doing hiding in there? Are you taking a nap at home and locking the door in front of your dad?”

“What on earth are you doing? Did you hide a man in your room? Are you dating already? You waited until I was asleep to bring someone home? You're showing no respect for your father at all!”

The more he spoke, the more agitated he became. He violently twisted the doorknob and began kicking and banging on my bedroom door like mad. I was so terrified that I didn’t dare to move.

I tried to call my mom in fear, but her phone kept saying: “The number you dialed is unavailable.”

The next second, Dad forcibly broke open the door.

Just moments before, I had hidden the diary. I watched as Dad stormed in with a ferocious expression, scanning my room in anger.

“Where is he? Where is he!”

“Evelyn, where did you hide that filthy man?”

I didn’t even dare to breathe, only cried in silence.

“I... I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dad. There’s no one here. I was just taking a nap.”

“You need to lock the door to nap?”

Dad shot me a cold look and said, “Next time, don’t lock the door again, understand!”

Curled up, I nodded and agreed. Dad suddenly smiled and reached out to pat my head.

“Good girl. That’s my sweet Evelyn.”

As he touched my head, I caught that foul smell again.